


Call Waiting

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:53:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair calls home and asks Jim for a quick favor . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Waiting

## Call Waiting

#### by Aouda Fogg

  
Not mine . . .the belong to TPTB . . . . I'll put 'em back unharmed. No infrigement intended.  
This is actually a pretty old story . . . it was one of the first I started in the fandom -- I'd written one with this premise in DS and wanted to see if I could make something similar work with Jim and Blair . . . it languished on my hard drive for a while; daMurlin <waves> won it for the 2003 Moonridge Auction . . . a large delay ensued while I actually *finished* it <wg>. Then it seems to have hidden in a corner or something because it missed being archived! Now that it's been unearthed, I hope you enjoy it. <<waves to the Lurkers -- especially the birthday girls!>>  
  


* * *

He heard the mechanism in the phone begin to buzz, so he picked it up before the actual ring broke the stillness of the loft. 

"Ellison." He hoped it was Blair; he wanted his Guide home now. 

"Hey, Big Guy." 

"Hey, yourself. You coming home soon? I thought we had a date with the couch and a couple of beers." The very slight plaintive note in his voice made Jim mentally roll his eyes at himself, but they'd hardly seen each other for days, and he really wanted to feel his lover's warm weight against his chest and just shut out the whole crappy week. 

"Oh, yeah, man, I can't wait, but it's gonna be a little longer. Sorry, Jim." Blair went on, preempting any complaint; "I finally finished my testimony today, but our illustrious D.A. has some more paperwork for me to clear up, so I'm on my way over there. And wasn't it you who said always give the D.A.s everything they want?" 

He enjoyed Blair's chuckle at his snort. "Yeah, my exact words, Chief. Rule #12 in the Jim Ellison Handbook." 

"Right below colored Tupperware, huh?" 

"We all have to have priorities. So how long do you think you're going to be?" 

"Forty-five minutes on the outside, I'd think. I hope." Blair's voice dropped to a deeper tone. "I can't wait to get into my flannels. And then into yours." 

"Now there's a rule to live by." 

"You know it." The tone was filled with many promises. 

"Okay, well, write fast." Jim replied, his tone answering each one. 

"Yep." There was a slight pause, and the younger man's voice changed. "Hey, can you do me a favor?" 

"Not if it involves paperwork." 

"Ha, ha. Nah, just go upstairs for me." 

"Okay." Their conversation temporarily stopped while he strode up the stairs to their bedroom. "What'd you forget?" 

"Nothing, really, I just need you to do something for me." 

"I'm not going in the lower drawer on your side of the bed. I swear something bit me last time I went in there." The memory made him flash a quick glare at the inanimate object. 

"Then I'm glad I wasn't going to ask. This is going to be way easier; just sit on the end of the bed." 

"Why?" 

"Just do it," Blair instructed, exasperation tingeing every word. "Anyone ever tell you you're a suspicious man?" 

"Comes with the territory, my friend," Jim replied as he gingerly sat on the edge of their bed. Looking around him, he could see odds and ends of their combined lives; his cufflinks lay next to an earring of Blair's, a picture of them camping last summer dominated the dresser, and in the side of the closet that stood open, their clothes hung side by side. He liked the overlap and meshing, but before he could pursue the thought any further, Blair's voice redirected him again. 

"'Kay, can you see yourself in the mirror?" 

Jim glanced over to the other corner. "Yes, of course. What the hell are you up to?" 

"I just want you to go with the flow for me for a minute. Keep the phone in your left hand, but slide your right into your pants for me, Jim." 

Blair's voice, rich and deep, licked at him, but a burst of alarm scattered the spell as he worked to identify the noises behind the other man's voice. "Where are you?" he asked sharply. 

"Relax, man; can you hear any heartbeats next to me? No. That would be because I'm on my cell phone, in my car, all by my lonesome, missing you. I just figure if I can't be home having fun with you, at least you can have some fun." 

"Jesus, Blair -" 

"Come on," the younger man coaxed. "Do it, babe, slide your hand into your pants. Feel for me." 

Bemused but drawn in in spite of himself, Jim's right hand slid slowly beneath the elastic band. He could feel his hand move as he watched the action mirrored in front of him. The juxtaposition of feel and sight rocked him and he moaned starkly. 

"Oh, yeah, yeah. I like that. I love to hear you. Your voice gets this rasp that just makes my toes curl, man. Can you feel the heat beneath your fingers? You aren't wearing any boxers underneath those pants, are you? Are the hairs curling around your fingers?" 

"Yes." The word hissed out of him as he felt his skin grow hotter. He carded his fingers though the thatch of hair he could feel but not see, enjoying the rasp and spring against his fingertips. This time the sound he made sounded more like a sigh. 

"Mmmm, tell me more of what you're feeling, Jim, what you're seeing. Be my eyes." 

"I can feel my hand against me. My fingers are getting lost in the hair. God, Chief, my cock, how do you - I'm already hard. Can I touch? Please - let me." Some part of his mind whispered at him that he'd gone from protesting to absolute capitulation awfully fast, but the rest of his brain -- and his cock -- could not have cared less. 

"Soon, Jim, soon," Somehow Blair's voice captured elements that both soothed and inflamed all at once. "First I want you to slide the elastic under your balls. Don't take your pants off; just push yourself out so you can see everything." 

Jim could hear Blair's breathing speeding up along with his own as he pushed the material down out of the way. His cock sprang free eagerly. Contrasted with the light gray flannel, the florid color of his aroused skin stood out even more sharply. "Chi-Chief." He had to swallow once, twice, before he could speak again. "The light color of my pants makes me look even darker." 

"Yeah, man, bet you're my favorite color red, aren't you? The red that goes from your cheeks, down your chest, and all the way to your cock where it gets even darker and deeper right there at the base of your head, right where you always taste the best." 

The whimper that echoed between them made Jim shudder. "Let me touch, please, I need to feel--" 

"You need to feel the heat, Jim? Do you need to feel how smooth and firm and hot your skin gets as you get hard for me?" 

"Yes, yes, that's what I need." 

"Then that's what you'll get, babe, but just one finger, right now, Jim. Just one. I want you to start at the base and run just one finger all the way up to the tip. Do it now, Jim.' 

Panting, Jim let his head fall back as he followed the directions; it felt like all the heat in his cock flowed up though his finger before rocketing through the rest of his body. 

"Are your eyes open, Jim?" 

"Nooooo." It was hard getting the syllable out through clenched teeth. 

"I want your eyes open, babe, watching yourself, watching how hot you are. How beautiful." 

Unable to resist, Jim's eyes returned to the mirror. He knew it was his arm moving, his finger sliding up and down his erection, but having Blair direct him, Blair's voice telling him what to do, made him feel like his whole body was being controlled by his lover. The strange combination of being in control and yet not ratcheted his arousal higher. 

Every breath audible now, Jim continued to play his finger up and down his shaft, mesmerized as his cock grew darker and darker until the tip had flushed to a deep, intense purple. He tried to describe the shades and the changes to Blair, but words defeated him as his senses allowed him to see every minute change. Christ, the things this man could do to him. 

And yet, as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Blair took him to the next level. 

"Is your finger wet now, Jim? Are you leaking? Hmmm? You're dripping down the head of that beautiful cock of yours, aren't you? 

"Fuck, Blair, yes. I'm dripping, ahh, for you, wishing this was your finger, your hand." 

"I know, babe, and I can almost see it. See the wet glistening on your cock all ready for me to lick it away. Short little laps with just the tip of my tongue at first, that's how I'd start. But for now you get to do it for me, Jim. You get to taste - use the same finger, Jim, just that one, run it all over yourself; spread that slick all nice and even." 

Wondering wildly how just one finger could cause such an extreme reaction, and how every nerve ending in his body had suddenly migrated to just a few square inches of skin, Jim did just that; swirling his finger around and around, he watched as he spilled a bit more and groaned at the combination of cool and heat. But Blair had planted another idea. He tried to form the words. It hadn't gotten any easier in the last few moments. "Taste? Please?" 

"Oh, lover, that's so sexy. I love it when you beg all needy for me. For that you get a reward. Yes, you can taste." 

Freed by the command, Jim raised his finger to his mouth, and wishing it was Blair tasting him so he could watch, lapped. The taste created echoes of the last time he had tasted himself; it'd been combined with Blair's taste. The intense sense memory burst through him and he sucked hard at his finger until every trace was gone. 

On the other end of the phone, Blair listened to the sounds of his lover sucking his own finger and his own fingers turned even whiter as they gripped the phone tighter and tighter. He'd wanted to tease Jim just a little, but Jim had surprised him, and the eagerness with which Jim had complied with what he asked had quickly swept them both away. Shifting restlessly in his seat, he tried to adjust the bulging erection trapped in his pants, but every movement aroused him more. Finally stilling the fruitless movements, he gave Jim a few more seconds as he decided what to do next. 

For his part, Jim was locked into a sensory whirlwind. Sight, sound, taste, hearing, and smell. All were dialed up right to the limits, and each sent a different "color" spark zinging through his body until it seemed like his whole body glowed white hot with need. 

Dazedly, he realized he still clutched the phone, and that while he could hear Blair's fast breaths and faster heartbeat, he didn't have Blair's voice. He decided to push back just a bit, just to see what his lover would do. 

"I can feel you," he rasped. "I can feel you touching me as you tell me to touch myself, to suck, to taste. I wish you were here so I could taste all of you." 

Blair groaned and Jim grinned painfully. Then he waited. He knew his lover would give him more. 

This time when Blair spoke, his voice was full of gravely need. "I wish I was there. I wish I was there touching you, seeing you, tasting you. But I can hear you, Jim, and you sound so beautiful, so ready. So I want to hear you wrap all your fingers around that fucking gorgeous cock of yours." This time it was Blair's smiling at Jim's choked groan. 

Trying to hold back his own cries so he could hear Blair, Jim moved eagerly to obey as more words poured across the telephone line. 

"Lean back, baby; lie down on the bed. Is your hand wrapped around your cock?" 

"Yes!" His hand felt almost cool next to the burning flesh it was wrapped around. 

"Good, that's good. Now I want you to back down a little, so deep breaths, in, out, in out." They breathed in tandem a few times, feeling the need echo between them like a living thing, but both backed away from the edge a bit. 

Glad his feet were still on the floor to anchor him, Jim lay back on the bed, one hand clutched around the phone, the other around an arousal so hard it made his whole body ache. He felt so connected to his lover huge parts of him would've sworn it was Blair's hand wrapped around him, Blair's hand that was poised to send him over the edge. 

"Please, Blair, make me come, please, please. Now, I need. . ." He tried to put all the desperation he felt into every word. 

"Soon, Jim, very soon," his lover crooned back. And then the voice changed. It became more focused, more purposeful, and the need coursing though Jim's body both calmed and ignited as he realized more was coming. 

"No moving that hand until I say. Just hold it there, wrapped around, but not too tight, not too loose. Feel the fire beneath your skin. That's the heat I feel when you're inside me. Always makes me burn. Makes me want to take you inside me until I can feel you from my hair down to the soles of my feet. Love that feeling. Just the thought of it is making me harder, harder for you, and I'm already so hard I feel like I could fuck you from here. All right, babe, I want you to start moving that hand up . . . and down . . . real slow. Keep it slow." 

The sensations wrung almost constant whimpers out of Jim as he struggled to hang on. Blair had promised that soon, soon he could come, but this soon was clearly several epochs away. 

The constant babble of "please," "fuck," Blair" and "please" convinced Blair how close Jim was. "So good, Jim, you're doing so good. Hearing you is so hot. Just a little longer and we're going to let you fly. Just a little longer. Can you hear my heartbeat, Jim?" Not pausing to get an answer, even if Jim had been capable of making one, Blair rushed on; his own control was rapidly deserting him as well. "I want you to focus in on my heartbeat. No zoning, Jim, don't go that far, but ground yourself. Got it?" Again he went on without pausing. "Now I want you to go nice and slow, Jim, slide that hand nice and slow - so slow you only move up or down every five or six heartbeats. I'll be there soon, Jim! No coming until I'm there. Wait for me, wait." 

Hearing Blair's words, Jim became determined to hold on; locking on harder to his lover's heartbeat, he let it flow over him like a living thing until his own heart and cock were all keeping the same time and the slide of his hand sent shivers of sensation through him every few moments. It wasn't the emptiness of a zone; it was the fullness of being absolutely in synch with his lover. He drifted in the ecstasy knowing Blair would keep him safe and that an end to this torment was somehow within his reach. Soon, soon. 

Blair put the car in gear as quietly as he could, knowing Jim would be wrapped up in the sound of his heartbeat and the rhythm of sensation they'd created. As he drove the last mile to the loft, he kept up a steady stream of encouragement and endearments that were answered only by gasps and moans. 

Faster than he would've dreamed possible, Blair found himself at the top of the stairs gazing down at the gloriously aroused body of his lover. As he stripped off his clothes, he spoke quietly. "Now, Jim. Now. I want you to move faster. That's right. That's what you want, isn't it? Push yourself over the edge. Go, baby, let go. Do it. Come for me, lover, right now." 

And Jim did. 

His whole body contorting with the pleasure, Jim arched off the bed, only his feet on the ground and his head on the comforter anchoring him. His come jetted out of his straining cock, splattering his t-shirt, spilling over his hand as he finished with a soundless scream. 

He didn't know how he was holding on, but Blair managed not to come as he watched the climax wrack his lover's body. As the last shudders shook Jim, Blair took the final few steps and kissed his way up Jim's chest until the reached lips that were still slack with pleasure. 

"Blair." Jim's voice cracked around the single syllable. 

"Yes, love, I'm here." 

"Inside me, now, babe. I want to feel your heartbeat inside me for real this time." 

"Yes, yes, yes," Blair chanted his answer as he lunged for the lube on the bedside table. 

Jim drew back his legs with hands that still shook, and the sight of his lover holding himself open and ready burned through the little control Blair had left. Barely taking the time to take the chill off the slick gel, he hastily prepared his Sentinel mostly by touch; he couldn't tear his gaze away from Jim's eyes and their blazing warmth. The look was almost like another touch and he basked in it, knowing he'd put that look there, that his eyes carried the same message. 

Never breaking their eye contact, Blair fitted himself against Jim, and with one dizzying thrust, pushed himself in all the way to the hilt. 

They stayed like that for a moment, neither moving, just feeling. Then Jim whispered up at Blair, "I can feel your heartbeat all over my body." 

As if the words were some kind of signal, Blair's body took over. Stroking in and out of Jim's body deeply, quickly, his breath harsh in his throat, he fought for control but lost. Slamming hard one last time, his whole body, even his little toes, went taut before he spilled deep inside his lover until he collapsed, boneless. 

Incapable of doing anything but breathing, he vaguely felt legs wrap around his waist as Jim moved them both more fully onto the bed. His head cradled on Jim's chest, Blair listened as their heartbeats slowly evened out. A moment later, he heard a muffled click and realized Jim had found the phone somewhere on the bed and shut it off. 

"What about that paperwork, Chief?" 

Blair lifted his head from its comfortable pillow and grinned sheepishly. "I may have obfuscated a bit about that." 

"Hmmmm." The wonderful sated feeling enveloping Jim's body cancelled out any possible response but a contented smile. 

Blair's head dropped back and they drifted for a while longer. Finally, the larger man spoke again. "I can't believe you teased me like that, making me wait!" 

"Mmmm," Blair hummed, sleepily. "Gives a whole new meaning to call waiting, doesn't it, Big Guy?" 

The End. 

* * *

End Call Waiting by Aouda Fogg: aoudafogg@yahoo.com  
Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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